Former Glory
by The Keeper of Truth
Summary: All Lucario wanted to do was end his rivalry with Mewtwo. But something went wrong, and now they are both somewhere completely new to them: a forgotten world, a city far beneath the waves. Some call it home. Others call it hell. All call it Rapture.
1. Best Laid Plans

Okay, after about a month of procrastinating and a week of hard work, I've finally started this project

**Okay, after about a month of procrastinating and a week of hard work, I've finally started this project. Yay for me.**

**As most of you have probably guessed, this is a crossover fic. Some of the more game savvy among you may have already figured out what the second party is due to this story's summary. Or you were just one of the people that helped me conspire with this. Either way, kudos to you. If you aren't so sure what it is and can't wait until next chapter, just let me know and I'll PM it to you.**

**This fic is T-rated for typical stuff in my work: violence, blood, and the occasional innuendo. While none of it is **_**that**_** heavy, if you have a serious problem with any of these, **_**scram!**_** If you think you can handle it in return for a well-spun tale, then by all means, read on.**

**Anyway, this chapter will start out fairly light-hearted compared to what will likely be written in the future. So bear with me, alright?**

**Disclaimer: The Super Smash Brothers franchise is the copyrighted property of Nintendo. All characters within the franchise belong to their respective owners. The only thing that I claim to be of my creation is the plot of this story.**

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_Dear Lucario,_

_Please come to the ISP chamber today at_ _1:00 PM. Come in your battle clothes and be ready to fight. Attendance is not optional._

_Signed,_

_Master Hand_

Lucario turned the note over in his hands again, still reading the same message he had found on it earlier that day when he found it just inside his bedroom door. Shaking his head, he surveyed his surroundings.

He was in a large room clad in grey metal. Straight lines ran this way and that across the surface of the pristine walls, showing every slab of metal that constituted the place. A closed observation deck jutted out from the ceiling, several windows of tinted glass separating the gadgetry inside from the world outside. Seeing as it was roughly the size of two football fields, the room could have easily been a hangar.

And in a way, it was. In the center was an archway, seamlessly constructed into the floor. It was several meters in height, easily able to let through a school bus if it needed to. Despite its unassuming appearance, Lucario knew quite well what it was. It was the ISP, the Inter-System Portal, the only way to leave or enter the world in which the Smash Mansion resided. It was the heart of the operation of the Super Smash Brothers tournaments, so nobody was allowed near it unless they had a match scheduled or wanted to take 'shore leave.' And since Lucario had requested neither, he was confused as to why Master Hand, the proprietor of the Super Smash Brothers, wanted him there.

_Well, I'm here, _he thought, _but Master Hand isn't. Strange..._

"Boo!"

"Ah!"

Lucario jumped and turned around in surprise, only to see a certain pink feline giggling her pretty little head off.

"Mew..." Lucario sighed to himself, relaxing a little bit.

"Oh man, I can't believe you fell for that!" Mew let out between breaths. "What happened to the hardened warrior of Cameran?" She started laughing out loud, the force of it sending her tumbling backwards as she floated in midair.

"Up to your old tricks again, I see?" the canine asked, crossing his arms and smirking.

"You bet'cha!" Mew responded, managing to reduce her laughing fit back to a giggle.

Lucario chuckled. How a creature that was practically a goddess could manage to act so silly was beyond him.

He perked his ears, suddenly remembering why he was there. "Hey, Mew, I got this note from Master Hand to be here, and-"

"I know."

Lucario cocked his head, witnessing the biggest, toothiest grin he'd ever seen plastered on Mew's face. Glancing at the glistening rows of sharp fangs between her lips, he idly began to wonder if she was ever this friendly when she got hungry. Or, worse still, if she _was_ this friendly when she was hungry!

"What? How would you... wait. Don't tell me _you're_ my opponent!" the humanoid pokemon blurted out, feeling a bit panicked.

Mew giggled. "No, I'm not; you don't have to worry about getting your furry blue _butt_ handed to you by a pretty little kitty," she finished, clasping her paws together and fluttering her eyelashes. She then smirked evilly. "At least, not today."

Lucario blushed slightly from indignation. "Well then, how _do_ you know about this letter?" he asked incredulously, trying to change the subject.

The small pink cat brought a finger to her chin as her hips pivoted back and forth, making her look like a guiltily innocent schoolgirl. "Because I sent it," she chirped.

"...Oh, fine then....wait_, what_?"

Before anything else could be said, the distinct swooshing noise of automatic doors opening was heard from the other side of the room.

"Well," an irritated-sounding voice echoed, "I'm here, Mew. What exactly did you-?"

Lucario looked to see who it was, and groaned inwardly when his crimson eyes connected with two violet ones.

"...What is _he_ doing here?" Mewtwo snarled, glaring at his counterpart.

"I'm right here, you know," the canine in question said calmly, lazily turning in the direction of the clone.

"I wasn't talking to you," he responded, leaning in toward the shorter pokemon.

"Alright, break it up!" Mew barked, floating between the two and holding her arms out as if to distance them. "Y'see, _this_ is why I brought both of you here."

"So you were the one who sent me that note? Not Master Hand?" Lucario asked.

"That I did," Mew said proudly.

"You got duped into coming here by a _note?_ Okay, before I was just peeved I got replaced by you, but now I'm outright insulted," Mewtwo muttered, shaking his head.

Lucario opened his mouth to say something, but a stern look from Mew convinced him to keep his mouth shut.

"Now do you get it?" she inquired, looking at both of them in turn. "The hostility between the two of you is enormous; I'm betting some of the psychics back home can feel it, not to mention Ness and Lucas! This little rivalry is getting neither of you anywhere." Lucario glowered at the ground, his hands at his sides. Mewtwo, on the other hand, had his lean arms crossed over his chest, and threw his head to the side and let out a disgruntled 'hrrmph.'

When neither of them responded, she shook her head. "Look, I care about both of you, so I can't just stand by and let you two hate each other like this. That is why I'm going to put an end to this whole thing once and for all."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Lucario asked, looking up.

"Considering that we're in the ISP chamber, I'm guessing a battle is involved," Mewtwo drawled.

Mew nodded. "Yep. The way I see things, this is all about whether Mewtwo got replaced unfairly or not. Am I wrong, Mewtwo?"

A pause, while Mewtwo collected his thoughts, deciding the best way to reply to his pink friend. "...No, you aren't."

"Well," Mew continued, pacing in front of the two of them, "I'm thinking that a good old brawl would settle things. If Lucario wins, then you, Mewtwo, have to admit that he earned his place in this tournament and leave him alone. If Mewtwo wins, then you, Lucario, have to admit that Mewtwo's place had been given away unfairly and do all within your power to get him back in." The two glanced quickly at each other, before turning away.

"So, gentlemen," Mew finished, turning toward the two, "do we have a deal?"

A silence fell over the trio. The two rivals stared out into space, absorbed in their own thoughts.

"I guess I will," Mewtwo conceded. "It's not like I have anything to lose here."

"Well, if he's willing to end this, then so am I," Lucario said, not skipping a beat.

"Perfect!" Mew exclaimed, clapping her paws together and spinning. She hovered over to the door. "You two stay here; it'll take me a few minutes to set up the match."

"How do you plan on getting into the system?" Mewtwo asked.

"Yeah," Lucario added, "aren't the only two people who know the password Master Hand and Crazy Hand?"

"What, you guys don't trust me? I have my ways." She turned around the corner before she popped her head back in again. "Oh, and no hurting each other outside of the arena. Unless you find a mud pit, of course; then you just need to call me over ASAP." With one final wink of her sapphire eyes, she was gone.

Then of course came the awkward silence.

"...Was she always like that?" Lucario asked, slightly perturbed at what the female feline had just suggested.

Mewtwo glanced over at the smaller pokemon and scoffed. Without a word, he glided over to a spot in front of the ISP, crossed his legs, and started to meditate.

Lucario sighed. _This is going to be a long 'few minutes'..._

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Mew laughed mischievously as she sped up the flight of stairs that would take her to the control room. She was still imagining the looks on her clone's and her guardian's faces after her 'parting words.'

_Then again,_ she thought hesitantly, _since I'm trying to get those two to get along, maybe I _shouldn't_ have said that... _

The feline's second thoughts were interrupted as she skidded to a halt in front of the large mechanical door that she was looking for. It slid open at her approach, and she gawked slightly at what she saw inside.

The room was completely clad in electronics. Large devices that did only Arceus-knows-what covered three entire walls, not a single space between. The fourth wall was the observation window, three solid slabs of tinted glass overlooking the coveted ISP. Below the window was one long interface, filled with buttons and switches roughly as big as she was. She had never seen so much technology in one place before!

"Hello," a monotone voice greeted. "I am TEC-XX. You may call me TEC. Welcome to the ISP central control."

"Hey," Mew said, her voice full of recognition, "aren't you that peeping tom of an X-Naut AI that had a crush on Princess Peach?"

"Yes, and you are that pervert of a pokémon goddess that has ten gigabytes of hentai stored on her laptop," the computer shot back.

"How did you-?!"

"I know everything," the AI interrupted. "And yes, you should be very ashamed of yourself."

"Hey, I'm not on trial here!" Mew pouted. "Are you denying me access to the ISP or not?"

There was a pause before TEC spoke again. "While you are not either Master or Crazy Hand, if you have the password, I am not authorized to stop you. Please, use the keyboard toward the front to input the access code. If you have it, that is."

It was then that Mew noticed a revolving chair situated in front of a small screen and keyboard.. She drifted up to it, letting herself down on the seat.

_Uh... now what was the password again?_ She shook her head. _I knew I should have written it down! Curse my lack of pockets!_

She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. _Come on... think..._

"I've got it!" she exclaimed, her eyes snapping wide open. "Gate... of... legends," she mumbled as she typed the code in with her stubby paws. She triumphantly hit the Enter key, and waited for a response.

"...Password accepted," TEC stated. "You are now free to choose the match parameters. Destination?"

The feline slipped her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, once again chanting the words as she typed them. "Pokémon... stadium." Just like before, she hit the enter key.

Nothing happened.

"Um... Pokémon Stadium?" she said inquisitively, typing in her answer over again. She hit the answer key once more.

Again, nothing happened.

"Uh... TEC?" Mew called out, worried. No response.

Just then, the screen she was working on went completely blank, becoming an empty sheet of black. She was about to get up and leave when a small, pixilated Pikachu walked on-screen. It had its hands behind its back, and it was marching exaggeratedly, each foot going high into the air.

When it reached the center of the screen, it turned to face forward, toward Mew. The Legendary leaned in, puzzled.

The virtual Pikachu closed its eyes and let out a synthetic, female giggle. "Follow the truth, follow the lies. Nobody wins..."

Its eyes suddenly snapped open, a demonic smile plastered across its face.

"EVERYONE DIES!"

Mew let out a loud scream as she felt a searing pain assault every inch of her body. She managed to open one eye to see a swelling light pouring out of the interface and into her. Was that...

_Electricity?!_ She screamed mentally. _How could that be?! I've been shocked plenty of times before and wasn't even phased! Why does THIS hurt so much?!_

Her thoughts came to a stop as she felt the intensity of the stream increase. So many volts coursing through every nerve in her body... she didn't even have the energy to scream any more.

With one final pulse of energy, the current stopped, sending her flying across the room. Her back slammed into a control panel with a loud thud, followed by a small thump as her limp body fell to the ground.

Mew was now on her side, her eyes struggling to keep open. She could faintly register her tail twitching of its own accord due to leftover voltage.

_Is this... how I'm going to die...?_ She mused.

As her vision blurred and she closed her eyes for what she thought was to be the last time, she heard a female voice coo:

"Nighty night, little kitty..."

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_Augh... what is taking her so long?_

Lucario was leaning his back against the wall of the ISP chamber, his arms crossed over his chest, currently bored out of his skull. He was one patient pokémon, but once he expected a fight, his body got ready far before he did.

The blue canine turned his gaze toward the meditating Mewtwo several yards away.

_I wonder what he's thinking about,_ Lucario speculated. _Can't be anything spiritual, judging by how bitter and removed he acts toward everyone. And he certainly can't be in his 'happy place', whatever that would look like; I don't think I've ever even seen him smile. Maybe if I just took a peek at his Aura..._

He shook his head. _No! That's an invasion of privacy. Whatever's got him so preoccupied is none of my business._

"That's never stopped me before."

Lucario practically jumped at the sound of the psychic's voice. He quickly caught his breath, stuttering, "You, you were-?"

"Reading your mind?" Mewtwo finished for him, still in his meditative stance. "Well, what little there is to read, anyway. But I guess I shouldn't expect so much from a Fighting-type."

The blue pokémon gritted his teeth. "Those were my own private thoughts. You had no right to go snooping around in them!"

The psychic shrugged, still with his back to the irritated canine. "What's the point of power if it is not exercised? Besides, it's not like you were thinking about anything personal such as a secret love affair or melodramatic homesickness like all these other inane simpletons."

"Just because you _can_ do something doesn't mean you _should_," Lucario growled.

"Please, save your talk about honor and valor for someone who cares," the clone sighed. "In case you haven't noticed, the era of knights in shining armor is long gone. In this day and age, _might_ makes right, not virtue. If you refuse to keep up with the times, then maybe Master Hand will put you in a museum where a prehistoric mutt like you belongs."

"What... did you call me?" Lucario snarled, his hands balling into fists.

Mewtwo turned his head, glancing at the enraged Aura pokémon with a single violet eye. He lifted himself off the ground, standing at full height. Lucario had forgotten exactly how intimidating the clone was. Even though Lucario was unusually tall for his species – a little under five feet – Mewtwo still towered over him at six feet tall.

The Legendary glided over to the Fighting-type, looking down at him as he said, "You heard me right. I called you a _mutt._ See also: cur, mongrel, and bastard. Want to make something of it?"

Before the argument could escalate, however, the ISP sprang to life. What was once empty air was now occupied with a blue substance that spanned the entire archway. It rippled as if it were the surface of a lake, light dancing off of its surface as it undulated.

"Well," Mewtwo said after a moment of silence, "I suppose that's our cue."

"Very well, then; ladies first," Lucario sneered with a sweeping bow.

"Whatever you say, _she-male_," Mewtwo sniped as he floated toward the gateway. He paused just before entering, looking back at Lucario as if to say something. Then he just raised his tail in the air, flourishing his hips and giving out a 'humph' of irritation. Without another word, he stepped into the portal, the liquid-like substance forming around him, and with one last flick of his tail, he was gone.

Lucario, flustered at both Mewtwo's comment and the following tail-up insult, simply stood there and fumed for a moment. "Immature, dishonorable wretch of a Legendary...."

The disgruntled Aura-sensitive hound stepped forward to follow his adversary when he noticed a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, a sense that something wasn't quite right about the whole thing.

He shook his head_. It's probably nothing;_ _just pre-battle paranoia_, he reassured himself.

With that, he stepped into the ISP himself, eager to finally have a thorn in his side removed.

But fate had other plans in mind, for the both of them...

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**Well, there's the kick-off. While I do appreciate your comments, I would appreciate it even more if you were honest with me. If you have any concerns, be they OOCness or otherwise, feel free to voice them. Also, if you think I need to up the rating to M, please tell me. I **_**really**_** hope it doesn't come to that, though, and since there isn't going to be anything sexually graphic, I don't think it will. Still, if you think otherwise, go ahead and say so.**


	2. Opening Old Wounds

**Well, now that the last chapter has set things in motion, it's time to establish where this is headed, namely which franchise Lucario and Mewtwo ended up in. With any luck, that'll be apparent to you by the time you're done reading this chapter. But just in case, I'll leave a little footnote at the end to set things straight. Wouldn't want you kept in the dark **_**too**_** much, now would I?**

**And those of you who wanted a little bit of background concerning the hatred between our two stars will get it. A bit of fair warning, though: this chapter is fairly innuendo-heavy, mostly due to Lucario's memories of Mew's past perversion and Mewtwo's below-the-belt insults.**

**Before things get started, I just want to say that I **_**know**_** some of you will be tempted to complain about how the Lucario in this story is Aaron's and how I depict the blue things on Lucario's legs to be shorts and the yellow torso a shirt. Word to the wise: don't start with me. **_**Please.**_** I'm sick of having to argue with people about this sort of thing all the time. I chose Aaron's Lucario because he has a backstory that would be suitable for the situations yet to come. I portray him as wearing clothes because I have a pic from the original Japanese manga that pretty much **_**proves**_** that Lucario's wear clothing. All the same, I'm tired of fighting with people that waste both their time and mine to try to change my views. I respect all of your opinions and am eager to hear them, but if you honestly can't get over little facts like that to enjoy a decently-spun tale, that's your problem, not mine. Just don't come crying to me about it, alright?**

**Lastly, a big thanks goes to Damned Lolita, my beta reader, for helping me through this project so far. And, more importantly, for putting up with yours truly. I can be quite demanding at times, heh. Oh, and happy (late) birthday, Lolita!**

**Disclaimer: The Super Smash Brothers franchise is the copyrighted property of Nintendo. All characters within the franchise belong to their respective owners. The only thing that I claim to be of my creation is the plot of this story.**

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There it was again; the sensation that someone was trying to rip out his ribcage with their bare hands. Such was the drawback of near-instantaneous inter-system travel. Lucario had gone through the process several times, but he never quite got used to the wind getting knocked out of him.

He screwed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on dulling the pain. Even though the teleportation process never took more than ten seconds, it always felt like much longer than that to him. He so looked forward to having his feet on solid ground, time and time again.

Imagine his surprise when the first thing he felt wasn't warm air caressing his face, but cold water engulfing it.

The hound's eyes snapped open, a cloud of bubbles obscuring his vision. He gasped in surprise, only to close his mouth again as he was reminded of his current situation the hard way. He brought his hands to his throat, a muffled choking sound coming out as his body tried to get rid of the saltwater he'd just taken in.

Lucario twisted his body, trying to regain his bearings as he turned his head upward. Several masses of orange light danced just above the surface, but at this point, he only cared about what else was up there: oxygen. His arms started stroking in an attempt to ascend, his lungs burning as they begged for air.

His face met a rush of cold air as he broke the surface, hacking and sputtering to empty his lungs of the unwanted saltwater. As he finished returning the foul-tasting brine back to its source, he began to regain his senses.

Crackling fire. Clouds of smoke. Twisted hulks of metal. Such were the things that Lucario saw when he opened his bleary eyes. Flames surrounded him on all sides, wreckage of all kinds floating in the jet-black waters. Smoke swirled around him, giving one last bitter kiss before ascending to the heavens.

The waterlogged canine quickly looked around for something he could use as a floatation device. His limbs were already beginning to get numb from the frigid, murky waters, and although he was strong by nature, his kind weren't exactly built for swimming, long _or_ short term. While he wasn't exactly sure if that was a fact, that particular Lucario wasn't eager to test that theory at the moment. He quickly spotted a sheet of metal floating nearby and latched on to it.

As he caught his breath, still trying to wrap his mind around what was happening, his acute ears picked up a sound besides the roaring flames and surging water. It was a sucking sound, as if something large and hollow were sinking beneath the waves.

Lucario turned to his right, and, lo and behold, a triangular metal _something_ stood out of the water like an obelisk, several cross-sections adorning its highest point. The identity of what he was looking at came to him in an instant: the tail of an aircraft.

_A plane crash?_ he wondered to himself. _But why would I be in the middle of...?_

His thoughts came to a halt as he spotted something else looming behind the smoke, something much larger than any debris. Still clinging to his makeshift life-preserver, he tried to get a better angle, using both of his hind legs to propel him forward. To his surprise, he found a path out of the ring of fire he was in just around the corner, but that was overshadowed by where the path lead.

There, looming above the wreckage, was a lighthouse, its silhouette beset on all sides by storm clouds. Its polished stone glowed eerily against the moonlight, the moon itself serving as its backdrop, standing just to the side of the structure. At the monument's summit was a large, glowing orb that faded to darkness and back again, it being held up proudly by the statue of a man, reminiscent of the sculptures Lucario had seen of angels blowing trumpets at the centers of many Human faiths.

While this lone building jutting out of the watery landscape was confusing in itself, something else was bothering him. _The moon is out? Now? But when I left, it was barely past one in the afternoon. Where in Arceus' name am I?!_

As he continued to gawk at the unnatural tower, a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked to see that there was a small flight of stairs rising out of the depths, lit by small street lights, converging on one of the structure's corners. A vaguely serpentine creature was pulling itself onto the earthen stairway. As it stepped into the light, Lucario finally recognized the solitary figure.

"Mewtwo..."

Lucario couldn't truthfully say he was entirely pleased to see the psychic. _Well, on the bright side, I won't be all alone out here,_ he thought, trying to stay positive. It wasn't working all that well.

Again using his hind legs to push forward, Lucario made his way to the staircase himself. As his feet finally touched solid stone, he forsook the metal he had used to keep himself afloat and groggily climbed onto dry land. As more of him left the water, he was reminded just how much colder the air could be after taking a dip. He wrapped his arms around himself, his tail instinctively going between his legs as he began to shiver like mad.

"So," started a soggy Mewtwo, who was perched on the first landing, "have a nice swim?"

A shivering Lucario shot the clone a death glare. He walked up next to the feline before shaking himself furiously, sending water flying everywhere, before taking a seat beside him.

"...I'll take that as a 'no,'" the feline said slowly as the water from impromptu cascade dripped from the tip of his snout.

"Any idea where we are, genius?" Lucario asked as he struggled to take off the yellow shirt he always wore.

"Not really," Mewtwo admitted. "The stars are blocked by the clouds. We could be on the opposite side of the galaxy from the mansion for all I know. Probably are; seeing as there's no definitive edge to signify a knock-out, this certainly isn't within tournament jurisdiction." Taking a look at his rival, he asked, "What are you doing?"

Lucario struggled for a moment, the yellow vest stuck on his head, before yanking it off, revealing the blue-furred torso underneath. "Trying to get my clothes at least _partly_ dry. While clothing may come in handy for fending off the cold, it sort of defeats the purpose when they're soaking wet," Lucario explained as he wrung the shirt in his hands, excess water flowing out of it onto the ground. "Not that you would know anything about that; you walk around in the nude all day."

"Come to think of it, why aren't _you_ freezing?" the bipedal hound asked as he set the article of clothing in his lap. "I have a full outfit and am covered in thick fur; you, on the other hand, are naked and only have microscopic hairs that barely even _qualify_ as fur."

"Yeah, you would know _all_ about microscopic body parts, wouldn't you...?" Mewtwo muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," the psychic hastily stated.

A few moments of silence passed, Lucario's eyes shifting between looking down at himself and toward Mewtwo. Unable to bear the silence any longer, the canine let out an unsure, "Umm..."

"What is it?" the disinterested clone asked.

"Well..." Lucario trailed off, embarrassed, "is there any chance that you could... turn away for a few minutes?"

Mewtwo gave him a strange look. "Why would you want me to do that?"

"Um... Well..." Lucario glanced down at his own shorts, hoping that Mewtwo would get the hint.

Unfortunately, he didn't. "Well...?" Mewtwo pressed, raising a brow.

Lucario sighed, mentally cursing the cat beside him. "Well, now that I've wrung out my shirt, it would be in my best interest if I were to do the same with the _rest_ of my clothing."

Mewtwo gave him a deadpan look. "...You're joking."

Lucario, getting impatient, growled, "Look, wearing these things as they are is getting uncomfortable in ways that I am too civilized to mention. So if you don't mind...?"

"Oh, for Darkrai's sake," Mewtwo hissed, putting his head in his hand.

"Hey, I'm just uncomfortable with other people seeing me naked, okay?" the ashamed canine admitted.

"But _why?_ What could you _possibly_ think I would do to you in your exposed state?" the feline asked, exasperated. He paused, then added, "On second thought, don't answer that. I don't even want to _think_ about it."

Mewtwo got on his feet, heading up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Lucario asked.

"I'm going to go exploring," Mewtwo shot over his shoulder. "Look, there's a door into this place right here. You're welcome to join me, but for the love of Giratina, make sure you have your pants on before you do."

Lucario blushed madly at that last statement, his face contorting into a frown. The clone mad fun of him all the time, but that was just a blow below the belt...

Lucario sighed and stood up as well. Just as he was beginning to lower his shorts, however, Mewtwo peeked around the corner again. "Oh, and one more thing: If I come out here to find that this was just a ruse so you could do that _disgusting_ thing that you male bipeds do-"

"Just _go_ already!" a flustered Lucario snarled over his shoulder, pulling his trousers up as quickly as he could. The clone obeyed, his face turning a slightly green tint as he snuck out of sight. Lucario's face changed color as well, a cherry red as opposed to the cat's olive green. In his haste to get it over with, he had taken hold of both his pants and his undergarments at the same time. Not very smart...

He growled to himself before lowering his shorts again. The thought of that wretch sneaking a quick look at his rump both made his stomach churn and his blood boil.

_Hope he has nightmares,_ he thought to himself. A shudder ran down his spine as he considered the alternative...

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of such disturbing thoughts. His pants were already hanging around his ankles, and the cold night air was quickly getting to him. He put his hands around the waist of his boxers, but paused for a few moments to make sure Mewtwo wasn't going to make another 'surprise appearance'. Satisfied that there wouldn't be a repeat performance, he dropped them, quickly shaking them off and sitting down to wring them out.

Letting out a small gasp at the feel of the cold stone at his backside, he picked up his boxers and twisted them in his hands. They had depictions of pokéballs all over them, with the slogan "Gotta catch 'em all!" embroidered on the groin and "Catch me if you can!" on the seat. If memory served, he had gotten them from Mew for his birthday. Not that that was a surprise, though; she always got him boxers. Every single year. For an immortal, she certainly had never learned the art of subtlety.

He sighed as he pulled his underwear back on and got to work on his pants; at this point, he would be glad to see Mew again.

After his found his clothes suitably dry, he hastily got dressed again, eager to fend off the cold. As he pulled his shorts back up to his waist, he noticed a distinct lack of feeling in his hindquarters. Just another thing to add to the list of what was going wrong.

Growling in annoyance, he pulled his shirt over his head, thankfully getting it down on the first try. He stood up, brushing himself off to get rid of non-existent dirt, and looked up the stairs, where Mewtwo had wandered off in.

_Well, I may as well go inside where it's warmer, _Lucario thought to himself, none too pleased at the prospect of being in the clone's presence.

He ascended the stairs, the pads on his feet silencing his footsteps as he approached the double doors that Mewtwo had disappeared behind. It looked to be made of brass, ornate carvings of ocean waves adorning its sides while a man in the same pose as the statue at the lighthouse's peak occupied the center. One side of the door leaned inward, the sound of music creeping out through the crack along with the light therein. Now driven by curiosity, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

He entered a decently big circular room bathed in both golden light, azure lanterns embedded into the tall walls above him. The sound of a violin playing an unfamiliar, whimsical tune resonated off the walls, apparently transmitted through hidden speakers. There was a large circular hole in the center of the room, guardrails encircling it as to not let anyone fall in. Lucario looked upward to see a large bronze statue of a human man's top half that seemed to leer down at him with sinister intent. There was a crimson banner hanging just below it, emblazoned in gold with the words, "No Gods or Kings. Only Man."

_If this was meant to make visitors feel welcome, it's failing miserably, _Lucario thought to himself.

He noticed Mewtwo directly in front of him, his back to the door and near the edge of the railing, gazing up at the intimidating figure. The psychic simply stood there, his thick, supple tail swaying back and forth across the floor, before breathing two, simple words to himself:

"Andrew... Ryan..."

Perturbed, Lucario stood and stared for a few moments, absentmindedly letting the heavy metal doors behind him swing shut. A loud crash echoed through the confined space as the gate closed, making Lucario nearly jump and Mewtwo's tail bolt upward.

The clone was the first to retain his composure, his tail lowering as he turned to face his compatriot. "Ah... you're here. Great. The warmth and tasteful music is now offset by the smell of wet dog. But knowing you, Mutt, you'd find another way."

"Would you _please_ stop calling me that?" Lucario groaned.

The psychic scoffed. "What, you don't like it? I thought it was rather fitting; you'd look simply _dashing_ with a leash, after all."

If looks could kill, Mewtwo would likely be writhing on the floor at that moment. Lucario had caught the reference the clone had just made, all too well. While Mew had gotten him a pair of undergarments for his last birthday, Mewtwo had given him something with a more slanderous effect. It was a jet-black studded collar with a hot pink dogtag in the shape of a heart, complete with a chain-link leash. While Lucario could have accepted it as a tasteless gag, it was one small detail that really set him off. On the heart-shaped tag, engraved in large silver letters, were the words "Aaron's Bitch."

The Aura-user distinctly remembered the merriment of the other Smashers being silenced with hushed gasps as the birthday boy had lifted the 'gift' out of its packaging. He had turned to the culprit, his wide eyes narrowing into slits as he saw the smug look on the cat's face. And, without another word, Lucario had pounced on him, clawing and biting with a savagery improper of any sentient being. The thing that most vividly stood out in his mind was the look on everyone else's faces as Ike and Captain Falcon had pulled him off of the psychic, who now had a black eye and sported several long gashes across his chest. Lucario had never been more embarrassed in his life.

As it turns out, Mewtwo had done the same thing to Pikachu the first chance he got, except he had been given a G-string embroidered with the words "Ash's Favorite." But unlike the little guy, who had laughed it off, if a bit sheepishly, Lucario had outright blown his top. Everyone acknowledged that Mewtwo had gone too far, but that didn't make the shame go away... or the anger. That was really where the hostility between the two started.

_And the wretch hasn't changed in the least,_ Lucario privately fumed as the memories flooded back.

Mewtwo stopped let out an amused chuckle in the wake of the squire's silence. "That's a good little servant boy."

The Psychic-type paused before asking, "Tell me, do you happen to recognize this song?"

"I can't say that I have," Lucario answered, trying to keep his temper in check. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Mewtwo stated, rather hastily, Lucario noticed. The psychic continued walking, going down one of two stairwells at the back of the room.

Slightly perplexed at Mewtwo's behavior, Lucario moved to follow when he noticed a small plaque on the guardrail that the psychic cat had been obscuring before, when Lucario had first walked in. It was inscribed with one simple quote: "What country is there for men like me?" The cited speaker, however, is what truly piqued the knight's interest:

Andrew Ryan.

"Hey, Slowpoke!" a voice barked from below. "I think I've found something!"

Lucario was pulled back to the reality, his head snapping up from the curious slate. "Um... I'll be right down," he called down the hole tentatively. The blue-furred biped lingered for a second, his eyes still transfixed on the unfamiliar name before he tore himself away, walking toward the stairs to the lower floor.

'_What country is there for men like me?'_ Lucario recited in his head. _If those simple words struck a cord... could Mewtwo not be such a bad person after all?_

The pondering canine reached the stairs, the two pathways folding back in on each other and merging as they went downward. The central staircase opened up to another circular room, this one also with a hole in the floor. Unlike the floor above, this opening was filled with water, and had a bulky, bronze, spherical contraption floating on the surface. Seeing as the device took up the entire center of the chamber, the stairs branched off into two flights of steps that hugged against the wall. And there, on the floor below, level with the metal apparatus, was Mewtwo, who stood staring at a large coin-shaped metal fixture on the wall opposite Lucario.

Mewtwo, noticing the hound's presence, looked over his shoulder and beckoned to him with his arm. "Come over here, Flea-bag; I've found something that I think could help us. Feel free to congratulate me any time you want, by the way."

_So much for him being a decent sentient being,_ Lucario thought bitterly.

Back in realty, the martial arts expert said, "Well? What is it?"

"Take a look for yourself," Mewtwo insisted, motioning toward the metal object in front of them.

The Fighting-type followed the feline's hand and studied the engraving. Its edges were rimmed with brass, the center forged of a grey alloy. This grey area was inscribed with the word "Industry" in large lettering, with the smokestacks of factories serving as a backdrop.

"Industry," Mewtwo suddenly stated, gesturing to the impression.

The psychic turned, motioning to a similar object on the wall by the staircase Lucario had just come down, this one instead decorated with what looked like an electrode. "Science."

The purple feline turned over the other shoulder, to another variant of the same fixture. This one was adorned with the smiling and frowning masks associated with theater. "Art."

Mewtwo then looked over to his companion, his violet eyes peering into Lucario's crimson ones. "This lighthouse didn't come out of thin air. Someone had to build it, and for a reason. And this," he said, motioning to the bronze sphere, "is the answer is to both why, and, hopefully, the who."

Lucario raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"

The Psychic-type approached a glass porthole on the sphere's front and tugged on it. It pulled back to reveal that the construct was hollow, the inside being furnished with a wooden floor and a brass lever, which was flanked by two couches made of green leather.

"Tell me, Muscle-head, what does this look like?" Mewtwo asked mockingly.

_Like I haven't heard that one before,_ Lucario thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "A transport of some kind."

"Exactly," the clone confirmed. "So, if this thing is a mode of transportation, then it must lead somewhere, no?"

Lucario looked at Mewtwo, to the sub, and to Mewtwo again. "Please don't tell me you're planning on using that thing."

"Me? Alone? Heavens no. You're coming with me."

The canine's eyes widened. "No. No way." Mewtwo raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. "Just… no way. There isn't a single thing in any dialect known to human or pokémon that could convince me to get in that contraption!"

"Why the hesitation?" the clone asked innocently.

"Well for one, that thing looks like it's going to fall apart at any minute," Lucario said, exasperated. "Second, I'm sure that Mew will have noticed what has happened and informed Master Hand. If we wait here, then I'm sure that they'll be able to find us."

"Suit yourself," the cat said furtively as he turned toward the sub with a flick of his tail, grabbing a hold of the door. "You can stay here if you want; I'm not stopping you. I hope that little rescue team arrives before your hunger sets in, though; I wouldn't want to return to find that you've gnawed several of your fingers off in order to survive."

Lucario frowned for about the umpteenth time that day. As much as he hated to admit it, the scoundrel had a point; bronze wasn't exactly edible, and unless whatever aquatic life that inhabited the world they were on decided that being ingested wasn't such a bad thing, his canine body would start collapsing in on itself fairly fast.

"Very well, I'll join you in your little voyage," the Aura-user conceded.

"Good," Mewtwo nodded, grinning. He entered the transport, taking a seat on the sofa on the right. "Come on in; make yourself comfortable."

"Don't mind if I do," Lucario huffed, moving to occupy the couch on the left.

As the Psychic-type's hand moved toward the lever, the canine couldn't resist saying, "While I am touched by your concern for my welfare, I can't help but think there's another reason for your desire to bring me along."

Mewtwo gave a sly grin, his eyes sparkling impishly. "Well, if worst comes to worst, I'll at least have an emergency snack nearby, now won't I?"

Lucario merely responded with an I-can't-believe-you glare, but, truth be told, he couldn't tell if the clairvoyant cat was serious or not.

A loud 'ding-ding' sound rang out as Mewtwo forced to lever toward the ground. The glass door swung shut, the sub jerking as the two of them started their descent into the unknown.

* * *

"_Great. Now they're _both_ taking the bathysphere. Oh, I knew something like this would happen..."_

"_Stop whining, you wuss. I have no complaints; another witness just means another brain for me to fry!"_

"_Calm yourself, girl. We don't want to risk losing a potential asset. If his presence bears no fruit, however, we'll exterminate him just like any other weed, I assure you."_

"_He's right, you two. One more pawn won't matter in the end. Their path is set; there is no turning back, for either of them. Moving forward will be their only option. And that, if all goes well, will lead the one we seek straight into our hands…"_

* * *

**Yeah… this chapter definitely turned out naughtier than I had expected. I guess Mew's perversion is hereditary, heh.**

**Alright, for those of you still lost concerning this fic's nature, here's the moment of truth. If you haven't figured it out already, this story is a crossover between Super Smash Brothers and the one and only Bioshock, the highly acclaimed game that won many "Game of the Year" awards. While I don't want to give away the specifics, I believe that the chilling environs of Rapture could lead to developments that would really flesh-out two highly underappreciated characters… along with several others, I hope.**

**As for the mysterious quartet at the very end… well, one question answered, another raised, no?**


	3. Are We Having Fun Yet?

**Eh... I think I may be pushing the T rating here. It's got heavy embarrassing moments. Like, Fallout 3 Rock-It Launcher propelled garden gnome **_**to the face**_** heavy. If any of you think this chapter jumped the story over to the M for Mature section, please speak up.**

**And a big thanks to my new beta, Silver Geminite. You've been a big help, Silv!**

**Disclaimer: The Super Smash Brothers and Bioshock franchises are the copyrighted property of Nintendo and 2K Games, respectively. All characters within these franchises belong to their respective owners. The only thing that I claim to be of my creation is the plot of this story.**

* * *

A throng of bubbles rose to the surface as the pod sank beneath the water, the grinding of the pod going along its gears being warped by the ocean's tight embrace. The muffled echo of the swirling brine resonating in the cramped metal orb made Lucario's skin crawl. The thought of being beneath several tons of ocean water and still feeling like he was lounging back in the safety of his room just seemed... unnatural.

The hound let out a shudder, and, much to his chagrin, his fellow passenger noticed.

"Feeling claustrophobic?" Mewtwo scoffed.

"No, it's just I've never done this before," he half-fibbed. "Not that you would know, but doing something that was thought to be impossible when you were still a fresh-out-of-the-womb cub suckling at your mother's side can be a tad unsettling."

"You know what else is unsettling?" the psychic asked. "The mental image you just gave me. Seriously, why didn't you just describe the night when you were conceived while you were at it? Couldn't be any more scarring than imagining you coming out of a female's..." It was Mewtwo's turn to shudder this time, looking like he was trying to shake off some bad dream.

While Lucario was debating on whether to laugh at the clone, bite him, or oblige in his request for a story, a light outside the sub flickered on, illuminating their descent. A gold sign with the words "10 Fathoms" in orange lettering passed by as they continued to descend.

"Mewtwo," Lucario started, "what's a 'fathom'?"

"It's a unit of measurement that describes ocean depth, equaling roughly six feet," the clairvoyant cat answered. "I thought you would have known that with all your 'noble' higher learning."

18 fathoms...

"I was educated by the scholars of Cameran and my fellow warriors just fine, thank you very much," the vassal defended. "It's not like I had use for such knowledge; I've never been out to sea before now. I haven't even ever been to the beach before."

"Trust me, you aren't missing out on _anything_," Mewtwo assured. "Seeing Ganondorf in a swimsuit was bad enough during Melee, and I shudder to think what that blob Dedede will look like in one when you get your first vacation from Brawl."

26 fathoms...

"And what about you?" Lucario asked sardonically. "I bet you in a swimsuit didn't win you any favors with the opposite gender. I mean, you aren't exactly a... what was the term? Chikorita magnet?"

"First off, the phrase is 'chick magnet,'" the purple pokémon corrected. "Second, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not interested in acquiring a mate. I don't _need_ anyone else to feel 'complete,' or whatever sappy expression people are calling such romantic tripe these days. Lastly, I don't really even have to wear a swimsuit due to my anatom-"

A loud whizzing noise interrupted the Legendary's rant as an old-fashioned projection screen popped up from the floor, obscuring their view of the glass door. The clacking and whirring of gears was heard as a movie projector sprang to life between the two of them, showing a logo of what appeared to be a tower in front of the rising sun.

"Is this what they call an 'in-flight movie'?" Lucario inquired, eager to change the subject.

"Not with this outdated technology it isn't," Mewtwo stated.

The image on the screen had changed to a black-and-white picture of a middle-aged human male sitting behind a desk. He had his dark hair slicked back, a small mustache shaped like an upside-down V adorning his upper lip.

"_I am Andrew Ryan,"_ a sophisticated male voice stated, _"and I am here to ask you a question."_ The picture changed to one of a man working on a farm_. "Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?"_

The image changed again, this time to the same man running from what looked like a giant bird of some kind. It was at this point that Lucario was officially lost.

"What in the name of-?"

"Shh!" Mewtwo cut in. "This might give us some answers."

"'_No,' says the man in Washington,"_ the voice exclaimed_, "'it belongs to the poor!'"_

"But I still don't know what-"

"Quiet! I'll explain later," the irritated feline promised.

"'_No,' says the man in the Vatican,"_ the man mocked as the illustration switched out the avian with a hand from on high_, "'it belongs to God!'"_

The slides changed again, now a giant hammer and sickle setting down on the human. _"'No,' says the man in Moscow, 'it belongs to everyone!'"_

As the picture returned to the original snapshot of Andrew Ryan, Lucario found himself thinking, _This man sure loves to hear himself talk, doesn't he?_

"_I _rejected_ those answers,"_ the disembodied Andrew growled. _"Instead, I chose something different. I chose the _impossible!_ I _chose_... Rapture."_

The screen retreated back into the floor, leaving the view outside unobstructed. A distinct groan escaped Mewtwo's sofa as he leaned forward in his seat, and Lucario himself felt his jaw slacken as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

Just beyond their pod, out in the open ocean, were skyscrapers, metal obelisks ascending from the ocean floor. Neon signs adorned their surfaces like beacons in a storm, schools of fish swimming by their eerie light. Bridges wrought of metal spanned the distance between them, a shell of glass the only thing preventing the brine from claiming them.

Though the blue-furred pokémon was only half listening at that point, he registered that the recording was still playing.

"_A city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, where the great would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of _your _brow, Rapture can become _your_ city as well..."_

"This... this isn't real," Lucario stammered out as he continued to stare outside. "It can't be real... can it?"

"Well, it isn't a dream," Mewtwo answered, "because if it was, _you_ certainly wouldn't be in it."

The submersible continued to drift through the forest of metal and glass. As they turned around the corner, one of the enclosed tunnels came into view. There seemed to be a man in some sort of bulky suit inside; he had his back to them, and whatever he was doing, it was causing sparks to literally fly. Lucario's attention was turned from the utopia's apparent denizen when an alien cry rang out through the sub. He jumped in surprise at the sound, noticing out of the corner of his eye that something fairly large was turning the corner.

"Is that... is that a Wailord?" the blue biped wondered aloud.

"That, my ignorant friend, is a whale," Mewtwo admonished. "Though you weren't too far off; it fills the same niche as a Wailord, but it is native to another world, the one that that commando newcomer comes from, if memory serves. Snake, was it?"

Lucario looked at the clone, taken aback. "How do you know this, exactly?"

"Because unlike some people, I take advantage of the fact that I'm a representative of my homeworld and learn about all the planets we've come into contact with. Knowledge _is_ power, after all."

Lucario was tempted to point out that Mewtwo was no longer one of those representatives, but decided against it; sinking to the clone's level of cynicism was something he wanted desperately to avoid.

It was then that the Aura-user noticed that their submersible was approaching a series of large iron rings. Small sparks ignited as the neon signs that were at their peaks flashed on.

"'All good things... of this Earth... flow... into the city,'" Lucario read out loud as each ring passed by. They came to a large porthole in the side of one of the buildings, and shadows cast over their pod as it entered.

"Looks like we've found civilization," the Psychic-type stated as the sub came to a stop. "I told you that I'd get us out of this."

"And how have you done that exactly?" the hound asked doubtfully. "What are we going to say when we get there? 'Hello, we're just a couple of incredibly powerful beings from outer-space who've lost their way. Would you mind if we slept in your bed and ate your food until our friends come and pick us up?'"

"Well, if you aren't for diplomacy, I could always enslave them and the two of us could turn them into livestock," the feline suggested, the sphere giving an abrupt jerk as it began to ascend. "You know, in case our stay here turns out being for more than a few days."

Lucario's face contorted in disgust. "On second thought... maybe just asking would be the best idea."

"Eh, I like my plan better," the clone admitted, returning his attention to the view outside, watching the rows of lights in the tunnel go by as they went upward.

The two castaways felt themselves lift out of their seats as the sub halted abruptly. Mewtwo was able to retain his position, while Lucario jerked forward, his rump landing on the sub's wooden floor with a loud thud.

Lucario grimaced in both shock and pain, the latter quickly taking over as he realized what had happened. "_That's_ going to leave a bruise..." he winced, getting on his knees and rubbing the point of impact.

"Nice landing, you muppet," Mewtwo snickered, giving the blue hound an injured pride to attend to along with his sore backside.

The glass door swung open, causing Lucario to glance upward as his psychic companion stepped outside. They were in what seemed like a small reception area, a pathway carved out of stone leading to a small catwalk that spanned the other side of the room. The pathway was rather narrow, so much so that only about three people could stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and the waiting area wasn't much better off. The light fixtures were dim, shadows being cast everywhere. The main source of light was the eerie blue-green glow from the wall opposite them, which was laden in glass, a giant window to the alien world outside. The only furnishings were a bench, the columns that supported the ceiling, and what looked to be groups of seemingly abandoned suitcases.

"Seems very... comely," Mewtwo ventured, his head tilting this way and that trying to take in his surroundings.

_It would be to you, wouldn't it?_ Lucario sniped privately as he stepped out as well, his composure salvaged. He almost lost that composure again when he looked upward. The entire ceiling was made of glass as well, further casting ocean's unnatural glow everywhere. The place felt more like a cathedral than anything else...

There was a clatter that caused the nostalgic knight back to reality. He looked back down to see Mewtwo manhandling one of the suitcases, his back to his companion. "Nothing but clothes," he sighed as he dumped the contents out. "Hm? What's this?" He pulled out a canvas, sand-tan backpack out of the pile, which looked to be for an adult human.

"What in Shaymin's name are you _doing?!"_ Lucario hissed heatedly as the clone tried the knapsack on for size. "That's someone's property!"

"If they really cared what happened to it, don't you think that they would be here right now?" the feline rebutted, adjusting the straps on his find. "Now would you kindly come help me search the rest of these briefcases for anything valuable?"

Lucario had to admit, the cat had a point. On the other hand, he couldn't let _him_ know that. "Do what you wish. Just know that I'll have no part of it." With that, he walked over to the hangar's solitary bench and sat on the side looking to the giant viewport, his back to the purple feline.

"Suit yourself. Don't be surprised when I don't share," Mewtwo said nonchalantly, turning his back as well.

Lucario shook his head and stared at the aquatic scene outside. It amazed him to no end how far humanity had come over the centuries he was locked away. To go from praying for a safe voyage on a wooden rig to building cities of iron deep beneath the ocean... compared to the eons it took his kind to even develop sentience. Mankind's development was rapid, to say the least. Perhaps a bit _too _rapid...

While the canine mused, Mewtwo was really getting into his task. He was now to the point of tossing things he thought useless aside wildly. Most fell harmlessly on the floor, but Lucario felt a small article of cloth land on his head. Annoyed, he snatched at it with his paw, pulling it down to find... a pair of women's underwear.

He let out a bark of revulsion, tossing it aside. "Mewtwo, you demented-"

Before he could get anything further out of his mouth, something large and made of fabric impacted with the back of his head. He swiveled around to find another canvas backpack, similar to the one Mewtwo had, albeit slightly smaller and an olive drab color.

"I didn't know you were in a very charitable mood, Mewtwo," the Aura-user said, genuinely surprised.

"Don't get sentimental, Mutt," the psychic replied dryly. "I'm only giving you that one because I can't _carry_ two backpacks."

Lucario almost slapped himself for his lapse in judgment. _Of course. Mewtwo, give _me_ a present? Bowser would sooner become a vegetarian._

The blue biped sighed, standing up to try on his "gift", when he heard the shuffling of wood underneath him. He paused and looked down to see what looked to be like handle-mounted message boards scattered across the floor. _What were they called again... picket signs? "WE'RE NOT PROPERTY", "RAPTURE IS __DEAD__",_ _"LET IT END, LET US ASCEND"... what happened here?_

His question was answered when his eyes came to rest on a plaque installed into the column next to his seat: "Attention! All bathysphere travel is now **denied**!"

"Mewtwo?"

"Hrm," the clone grunted in response, rummaging through his fourth suitcase.

"I think your friend Andrew Ryan wasn't very popular down here," Lucario stated matter-of-factly, holding up one discarded sign that read, "RYAN DOESN'T OWN US."

The violet feline looked over his shoulder. His interest piqued, he got up and walked over to Lucario, taking the sign and looking at it for himself.

"Where did you find this?"

"On the floor; there are about a dozen of them."

Mewtwo looked around his feet, noticing the other signs for the first time. "'A prophet is not without honor, save for in his own country, and in his own house,'" he sighed, shaking his head as he dropped the sign like it were a hot sheet of metal.

The blue biped raised an eyebrow. "Where's that from? Certainly doesn't sound like anything you would-"

Lucario stopped mid-sentence, a sudden feeling coming over him. There was a strange tingling sensation in his nose. He had gotten used to the smell of sea salt that pervaded the air, and Mewtwo's unique scent filled his nostrils, but something else was wafting by, something different...

"That would be straight from the Bible, Mutt," the clone went on to explain. "Not that I expect you to have ever heard of it, but if you can get past the theocratic nonsense, you would find quite a bit of insight into-"

"Shh!" the hound interrupted. He sniffed at the salty air, trying to discern the new smell. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. It sent a weird shiver down his spine, but he couldn't imagine why...

Lucario's eyes widened in realization.

"Blood."

"What was that?" Mewtwo asked, irked at being interrupted.

"I smell blood," he said again, breathless, his eyes looking akin to that of a deer in headlights.

The feline tilted his head back, sampling the air himself. "I don't detect any-"

Lucario didn't wait to hear the end of that sentence. He pole-vaulted over the bench and hit the ground running, his lithe legs clearing the stairs to the next room in less than a second.

He came into a rectangular room that looked to be a reception area. A billboard suspended from the ceiling hung in the middle of the room, all of the departure times flickering the word "canceled." A barricade made out of what seemed to be furniture and a fallen column divided the corridor in half. The windows that shone with the light of the outside world were absent, and as such the lighting was extremely dim. The only real illumination was provided by a spotlight which had its focus on a door at the opposite end of the room. On the other hand, there was another door right in front of him.

Unsure of whether to keep straight or go left, Lucario sniffed the air again. _Left,_ he confirmed. He dashed across the room and pole-vaulted over the blockade with one arm. Rubble was scattered at the entrance of the door, a vertically sliding mechanical one that seemed to be jammed halfway down. Lucario ducked into the opening and started to crawl through.

A sudden rush of heat hit the right side of his face as he came over to the other side. The canine tilted his head to see a burning desk lying right beside his head. He felt like his heart stopped the second before he started sidling to the left side of the crevice. When he edged away as far as he could, he pulled himself through, letting out a sigh of relief. Fire was devastating to his kind; if the metal that coated his skeleton were to heat up, he could be roasted from the inside out.

When he lifted himself up from his crawling position, he found himself in a small stairwell. Posters lined its walls, a small light above it to illuminate each in turn. The room above obviously had an outside view, as the blue-green glow of the ocean poured into the corridor from above. That light shown down upon the body of a human male, sprawled face-down over the steps.

The hound rushed over to the man's side. He knelt down and flipped the stranger over, careful not to cause the body to tumble down the stairs. Against his better nature, his head jerked back in disgust.

The man's face was contorted, his lower jaw an inch to the right of where it should have been. His navel was wrapped in bandages stained with blood and puss, and a white eye-patch-like dressing covering his left eye. His skin was no less tainted than his wrappings, the faint red of long-dried blood smeared across his face and neck, a particularly large stain seeming to drip down from his covered eye.

But what haunted Lucario most about the dead man was the eye he _could_ see. Bags of skin hung around it, its color so deep a purple that it could be mistaken for black. And the iris... was a dark, murky orange that seemed to blaze like coals would in a fire. It had a glazed-over look to it though, just staring into space; the human was, without question, dead.

_Dear Arceus... what happened to this man?_ he wondered. He tore his gaze from the cadaver's face and looked at the body.

His clothes were fairly normal: a white dress shirt, an orange vest, and a pair of grey slacks, all of which had numerous tears and were covered in their own fair share of dried blood. But patches of flesh on his right elbow, his right ribs, and his left thigh appeared to be pounded in with a blunt object. And judging by the new blood that was seeping out of them, the wounds were fresh.

Looking to the side, Lucario saw a section of pipe laying near the man's hand, roughly two feet long and rounded off at one side with a joint piece. Its blunt end was soiled with newly spilled blood. _Probably what he used to defend himself_, he deduced.

The Aura user took the pipe into his paws; a crude weapon, but it would have to do. There was no telling what was lurking out there.

He stood up, grasping his makeshift club in his right hand before peering over the edge of the stairway.

The next room did, indeed, have a view of the outside ocean; the entire wall opposite Lucario's viewpoint was covered in windows. Two pillars were on either side of the room along with a looming shadow, indicating that there was a balcony above him. The only exit that he could see was a metal door directly opposite the pokémon. The door had a red carpet leading up to it, and in the center of it was another human body.

Satisfied that there weren't any ambushes, the furry fighter went to the second injured person's side. He, for it was indeed a male, was sprawled on his stomach, surrounded by powdered rock and bits of rubble. The human also had a wrench in his right hand, the grey head of which was covered in blood.

Kneeling down beside the inert man, Lucario rolled him over onto his back, expecting the worst.

The 'worst' didn't come. This human looked perfectly normal. He was cleanly shaven, with orderly, well-kempt brown hair swept to one side of his head. He had pronounced cheekbones, a slender chin, and a rounded nose; fairly handsome, by most standards. If his breed of humanity was anything like that of Lucario's homeworld, the man before him was in his mid twenties, approaching thirty at the most. He was clad in a cream-white sweater and a chocolate-brown vest; an odd combination, to be sure. With his grey dress pants and his mahogany-colored leather shoes, he looked as if he were on his way to a dinner party, not a killing ground.

At least, that's what Lucario thought _before_ something else caught his eye: the man's hands. His veins, from wrist to fingertip, were glowing with soft, azure light. What appeared to be electricity danced between his fingers, lances of lightning arcing across his skin.

The canine's eyes widened in shock as he backed away from the inert human, if it could even be called that. His mind was buzzing with confusion when he heard a more-familiar-than-he'd-like voice call from the stairwell, "Hey, Flea-bag, where are you? You'd better still be here! If you're not, I'll find you and..."

Lucario looked bewildered for a second before his ear twitched in annoyance as his companion's threat quieted into muttered curses. Letting out a small growl, the blue pokémon swept the rest of the room with eyes. There were a few bits of mundane furniture (table, chairs, lamp, etc.) on one side of the room and a lit-up model of what he guessed to be the city he was in on the other. Each side had its own stairwell to the balcony a few feet above him, and he could see that one of them was blocked by debris that had been set alight. The question crossed his mind as to why so many things in an underwater city seemed to be on fire.

"A _little_ assistance would be nice right about now," the cat called again.

Finding the room absent of any major threats, the fighter decided to humor his cynical compatriot. What he found when he reached the top of the stairs, however, was not what he expected. There, at the bottom of the staircase, the 'strongest pokémon ever'...had his hips stuck trying to crawl under the busted metal door.

The psychic shot Lucario a glare as the hound's face contorted, trying to hold back laughter. "What do _you_ find so funny?"

"Nothing, Sir Bottom-heavy," the canine choked out, letting out a bit of a chuckle as he sauntered down the stairs.

"Speak for yourself," Mewtwo retorted. "Your rump is so plump that it's bigger than your head. And trust me, it _isn't_ the pants that make it look big."

"So you _did_ sneak a peek back when I was undressing!" Lucario accused, kneeling down to the trapped feline's level with a glare.

"Well, _excuse me_ if your backside took up half of my field of vision!"

"At least the bulk of _my_ lower half doesn't account for over half of my body mass!"

The Legendary could only offer narrowed eyes and a grudging growl in retort. "Just grab my arms and start pulling, Mutt," he spat.

Feeling accomplished, Lucario sported a smug smile as he lowered his pipe to the ground and wrapped his paws around the purple pokémon's forearms. The psychic's three spindly fingers held on in turn as the furry fighter went to work.

The blue canine dug his feet into the wood of the stairs, gritting his teeth as he attempted to pull his compatriot free. He could faintly hear the scraping of the feline's feet on the other side of the door as they tried to pedal forward.

"When was the last time you exercised, Mewtwo?" Lucario strained. "This feels like trying to suck a Chesto berry through a funnel!"

"I don't _need_ to exercise," the clone explained, gritting his teeth as well. "I'm a psychic, remember?"

"Then why don't you use those powers of yours?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Because I don't want to endanger the structural integrity of this place, now keep pulling!"

The former vassal growled at his commanding tone, but said nothing as he pulled even harder. His charge's body lifted off the ground from the sheer force of the pull, and it looked like the psychic's bulbous behind was coming loose.

That was, of course, until Lucario lost his footing. His paws slid forward from the effort he was putting into leaning backward so much that they slid clear of the stair they were on.

The Aura-user suddenly found himself sliding down the stairwell on his back, his rump giving a hard thud each time it met wood, until his bum found a resting spot: Mewtwo's skull. His hindquarters landed square on the feline's face, the cat's lilac snout sunk under the root of his blue tail while his cheeks spread out over the clone's angular head.

Lucario perked up his ears and felt his face burn up as he felt the imprint of Mewtwo's head press between his haunches. He looked down between his legs and could only see that the feline's ears perked up in surprise as well, the rest of him obstructed by the hound's own furry blue butt. The sudden rush of heat he could feel under the seat of his pants told him that the clone was equally embarrassed.

The martial artist glanced side to side uneasily; with a burning desk to his left and a flat wall immediately to his right, he couldn't just roll off. He shifted his weight and adjusted his legs in an attempt to remove himself from the Legendary's personal space, but that only served to make his bum rub across Mewtwo's face, further heating the already-toasty fever under the dog's rump. Lucario's body tensed up as he felt the cat's warm breath under the base of his furred tail, causing his face to quickly heat up to match his counterpart's.

As the hound continued his unsuccessful attempts, the psychic hissed a string of words that Lucario could only assume to be curses, each syllable tickling the fighter's nether region. He tried to dismiss it, but Mewtwo kept up his angry monologue. Before he knew what happened, the hound was wagging his tail and fighting back a giggle. One of his legs was even jiggling as if he were a pup receiving a belly rub.

The red-eyed dog felt an angry growl develop beneath him when the psychic began to buck his head, jostling the hound's pelvis. The disturbed canine, now fully awake, tried leaning his legs to slide off of the irate pokémon, but he just couldn't coordinate himself with Mewtwo thrashing underneath him and sending his lower half jolting every which way. Tensing his muscles, he could only sit and have his face grow hotter as his behind was tossed around like a rag doll until the psychic beneath him had calmed down. Idly, he wondered if this was what being on a roller coaster felt like.

"Get off, get off, get off..." Mewtwo's muffled voice chanted into the seat of Lucario's trousers. Said canine felt his body give a small jump as he felt both of the cat's three-fingered hands grab his hindquarters.

"GET _OFF!_" the lavender biped roared as he heaved his rival off of him. Lucario's feet landed a mere hairsbreadth away from the burning desk, and the blue pokémon scrambled a few steps upward as he felt one of the flames lick his toes.

"To HELL with structural integrity!" Mewtwo seethed. "I'm forcing this door open!"

The psychic's normally purple eyes then began to shine with an inner azure light. That same radiance emitted off of his body, creating a thin film of energy over his fur. It then spread over the sheet of metal that bore down on him, filling the entire hallway with a soft sapphire glow. Sure enough, the steel that firmly kept the cat's waist caught began to fold upward, crinkling to form creases in the metal.

The Aura-user's mind was still buzzing, however, his face as hot as a Charmander's tail. _Mewtwo had his muzzle up my... and it tickled, and... my tail was wagging... and he grabbed my...!_

Lucario shook his head as if the memory of that _way_-too-close-for-comfort moment were splattered all over his face. If the clone would ever speak to him again, the canine made a mental note to ask him to erase that incident from his mind.

Though, as he looked at the psychic below him, something seemed a bit... off. The blue energy that surrounded him was convulsing in spots, and the force of Mewtwo's power seemed to have disappeared completely from the steel door. His arms were quivering slightly, and his eyes were fluttering as if he were struggling to keep them open.

"Mewtwo... are you okay?" Lucario ventured, cocking his head.

The feline opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The shaking in his arms began to spread throughout his body, his newly-free legs shaking, but making no move to take a step.

"Mewtwo?" he tried again, leaning forward.

A small wheeze escaped the clone's lips, but it soon descended into a growl was he gritted his teeth. His two wiry hands came up to grasp the side of his face, which was now contorted into a snarl. He arched his back, drawing himself inward and let out an anguished scream.

"Mewtwo!"

Lucario hopped out of his seat and rushed down the stairs to the psychic's side. He was in a fetal position on his knees and looked like he refused to budge. The vassal grabbed him by the sides and dragged the Legendary out from under the door and up the stairs; the clone did not resist. Kneeling down, he slipped his fingers under Mewtwo's shoulders and lifted his upper half off of the ground. He then quickly slid under him, turning his own body to face the direction of the stairs, noting that the psychic had stopped screaming, which he considered a bad sign.

Lowering his arms and arching his back to replace their support, Lucario slung both of his charge's skeletal arms around his shoulders. He reached behind him to lift up Mewtwo's feet, but was suddenly reminded how tall the psychic was when his paws grasped the clone's hips. Another fever creeped under the dog's fur as he subconsciously noticed how much muscle the clone had in his thighs, but he ignored it. Swallowing his pride, he slipped his arms underneath the two burly legs and reached further back, planting his paws right on the bulk of Mewtwo's underside... and the root of his tail.

Inwardly breathing a sigh of relief when all his hands grasped were clumps of fur, Lucario hoisted Mewtwo onto his back, the latter's purple belly pressed against the former's lower spine. The feline's legs stuck out in front of the two of them as if he were a sleepy toddler who had had too much fun for the day. In a similar fashion, the cat's head was draped over his caretaker's right shoulder, apparently too limp to move it. Making sure he had a good hold on the psychic's rump one more time, Lucario started up the stairs.

Surprisingly enough, Lucario had little trouble with Mewtwo's weight; the effort to lift him was minimal, at best, and to keep him upright wasn't much more. He glanced over to his charge. The feline's eyes were screwed shut, his face still contorted with pain. He still couldn't figure out for the life of him what happened; he had never heard of anything of that sort happening before, let alone to Mewtwo.

The clone's eyes lazily cracked open, only managing to lift half-way. "Let me down..." he voiced groggily.

Lucario turned to face the stairs ahead of him, concentrating on not stepping on the disfigured corpse before them. "Forget it; you're in no shape to move."

"I said let me down, damn it," Mewtwo breathed, feebly grabbing the canine's chest-spike. "I can walk."

The hound looked down bemusedly at the offending hand. Mentally rolling his eyes at the injured Legendary and his pride, he responded, "No, you can't. You couldn't even open your eyes a few moments ago; I sincerely doubt that your legs are fit enough to lug around that potbelly of yours yet."

Mewtwo grunted, lifting his head and pinching one of his carrier's ears between his teeth. "I am _not_ overweight, Mutt."

Lucario flinched as he felt the pressure of his baggage's fangs when the cat lowered his head, dragging his ear down with him as a chew toy. "Don't kid yourself," he said, ignoring the twinge of the feline's teeth. "That bulging gut could hold me inside it."

"That's the plan," the psychic stated soberly, pressing down on his prize with his jaws.

One of the Fighting-type's red eyes twitched as he reached the crest of the stairs. From the bite or from the comment, even he couldn't tell.

Grimacing, Lucario responded, "Sorry, but I don't exactly intend to end up as cat food."

"Hmph... and I was looking forward to making you my midnight snack."

"As if you could even get a hold of me, you tub of lard," the hound scoffed, heading for the table at one side of the room. "If you want to make a meal out of me, you'll have to catch me."

"Oh, I will. _Everything_ is below me on the food chain, and I'm not about to make exceptions."

"What're you going to do? Sit on me?"

"Don't tempt me," Mewtwo retorted, giving a small chuckle.

Lucario couldn't help but smirk. He couldn't quite figure out why; anything involved being sat on, let alone eaten, didn't seem like a very amusing subject to him. That small smile was replaced with a frown when he entertained the thought that some of the clone's crudity was rubbing off on him.

The canine felt his leg bump against something; he teetered for a moment, almost losing his balance from stopping abruptly. He looked down to see that his foot had run into the leg of the chair he had been walking toward.

_I must have... what do they call it? 'Spaced out'?_ he thought to himself.

"What's the matter, Mutt?" his patient muttered. "Distracted?"

"Of course not," the Aura-user fibbed. It would have been rude to admit that he had been thinking about his dislike for the clone, after all.

"Then are you going to let me down? Your hands going to leave pawprints at this rate."

Lucario mentally slapped his forehead, but offered no words of apology. Instead, he just did as he intended; he backed up into the chair and lowered Mewtwo into it, slipping his hands out from underneath his backside.

"There. Happy now?" the blue pokémon asked, crossing his arms.

"Not really." The psychic shifted in his seat. "Your hands _did_ leave imprints, and they're quite uncomfortable to sit on. Was picking me up by my butt _really_ necessary, by the way?"

"You were too big for me to perform a Dead Man's Carry, and I doubt you would have been happy with me dragging you along the floor. In other words... yes. Yes it was."

"Are you sure?" Mewtwo asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't have done it, pervert. I feel like sterilizing my hands in that fire over there just to get rid of the feel of all the fat you have down there," Lucario admitted, motioning to the burning wreckage a few feet from them.

"And I feel like bathing in alcohol to get rid of the feeling of your haunches in my face," Mewtwo spat, flicking his tail in annoyance. "Small world, isn't it?"

The blue hound's body heat quickly gathered in his face again. _Ugh... he had to remind me about that, didn't he?_ He averted his gaze, suddenly becoming very fascinated with the lamp that stood behind the psychic, keeping a stern look on as best he could.

"So... I guess we're even, then?" the martial artist ventured.

"Oh-ho, no," Mewtwo hooted. "We are _far_ from 'even.' It's going to take much more than getting me into a chair to clear _your_ name, Mutt."

Eager to change the subject, Lucario asked, "What happened back there, anyway?"

It was Mewtwo's turn to avert his gaze. He stared at the floor for several seconds, apparently trying to gather his thoughts.

"I'm not sure," he said at last. "Something about this place - or someone in it - is disrupting my powers."

Lucario raised an eyebrow. "Can something do that?"

"It's very possible. Dark-types can do it, after all," Mewtwo shrugged.

"But then why did your powers work, but then stop working? And why did you start screaming bloody murder?" the vassal pondered, bringing a paw up to his chin.

There were another few moments of silence before Mewtwo spoke up again. "Dark-types simply nullify psychic powers as they are thrown at them. This time... it felt like my powers were being pushed back; shoved back into me. My mind simply couldn't take being, essentially, folded back in on itself, and summarily overloaded."

Lucario gave a small nod, though, truth be told, he was a bit skeptical. "I take it that my powers are at risk as well?"

"I would assume so, seeing as our abilities are similar in that they extend our consciousness beyond our bodies," the feline deduced.

The blue hound let out a sigh. "Can you move your legs yet?"

The psychic pushed down on the chair's arms with his hands in an attempt to get on his feet. He managed to stand up for a moment, but he immediately went back down into the chair, unable to support himself.

"Does that answer your question?"

Lucario placed his head in a paw, shaking it. "Alright, then; it looks like I'll have to guard you until you can move again." The blue-furred biped sauntered off in the direction of the stairwell. "I'm going to go get my pipe."

"Listen, Mutt, I don't need a baby-sitter," Mewtwo growled.

The vassal looked back at him, perturbed. "Only a sadist like you, Mewtwo, would think about sitting on newborns."

Mewtwo gave an equally confused look. "What?!"

Lucario waved him off, disgusted. "If you like suffocating cubs under that rotund rump of yours, that's between you, Arceus, and possibly the authorities, whelp."

"And with your bulbous behind, the cubs would just get lost in there if you sat on them, you fossil," Mewtwo sniped. "Good thing you aren't a parent if you'd do things like _that_ to your children."

"Actually, I've sired over twenty Riolu cubs in my lifetime, and many of them grew up just fine, from what the records tell," Lucario shot over his shoulder.

A smirk crossed the vassal's face; the sweet silence was all he needed to feel the psychic's shocked expression.

The blue-furred pokémon paused for a moment. "Oh, and Mewtwo... about what happened when I slipped-"

"We are to never speak of it. _Ever again_."

Lucario blinked a few times at the vicious tone in the clone's voice before starting down the stairwell again, calling back with a chuckle:

"Finally something we can agree on!"

**

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**

Yeah... I'm pretty sure that I may have just crossed the Rubicon of ratings.

**All who agree? All who disagree?**

**Anyway, next chapter, Mewtwo and Lucario (obviously) won't be left to their own devices anymore, so most of the embarrassment-heavy stuff will stop here. The plot will pick up next chapter, along with the splicer shooting, plasmid hoarding fun most of us have come to know and love.**


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